


Hero

by sakkajagga



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 05:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19222768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakkajagga/pseuds/sakkajagga
Summary: Nero returns home late after a long job, but he isn't in the best of moods; especially once he notices the newspaper labeling him as the "Mysterious Hero" that strangely upsets him.





	Hero

The sun had just barely started to crawl over the horizon when you felt movement; the space behind you dipping right before a body slid up against yours and an arm wrapped around your ribs.  Still half asleep, you reached back and ran your fingers through the soft spikes you expected; finding his hair to be damp as you tugged him closer. You felt Nero’s nose and lips press against your neck as he settled, pulling your back completely flush to his front and curling against you.  “Do you have to go to work today?” his voice was unusually soft, and somewhere in the back of your sleep-fogged mind you could tell it wasn’t simply due to his being tired. But in light of your own exhaustion, you were hard pressed to formulate a truly coherent response; already falling back asleep no sooner than humming noncommittally to at least acknowledge you’d heard him speak.

He must have not had pressed you on it, since the next time you opened your eyes, the sun had fully risen, and Nero was passed out as well; snoring softly and not having moved from curling up around you.  You stretched your legs, shifting and peeling away from him carefully so you didn’t wake him and swung your legs over the edge of the bed only to find his large hand pulling you back down by the shoulder. Nero immediately cuddled up to you again, face looking like he might had been doing it all in his sleep until he spoke groggily, “Stay...”  He didn’t move to look at you, half his face hidden in the pillow, chin resting on your shoulder and arm around your midsection once again. You turned to face him, reaching up to stroke his hair, watching his lashes flutter before he moved again; shifting down so that he could rest his head against your chest. Blinking as you folded one arm across his shoulders and resumed petting him, you couldn’t help but wonder what in the world was making him so clingy.

It wasn’t that he was stingy with his affection, but this was a little strange even for him.  Something had to be wrong, and you were willing to bet it wasn’t something he was going to want to talk about.  Because no matter how expressive and emotional Nero could be, he still fell short of being able to actually articulate what he was thinking or feeling sometimes.  You were just glad he trusted you enough to let his guard down when he knew he needed something like physical comfort.

Staying that way till he fell asleep again, you tried once more to slip out of bed without waking him, and actually succeeding.  Even though it hadn’t taken too long, that whole exchange had really eaten a good amount of the time you normally used to get ready for work.  But the thought of leaving him alone all day after all that made you consider his tone of voice, sleepy or not. Looking back at him to see Nero having unconsciously curled his arms around the pillow you’d been using, you pulled the blanket up around his bare shoulders before pressing a kiss right above his ear and whispering, “Love you,” as you normally did if he was home when you left for the day.

 

It was several hours later when Nero emerged from the bedroom, hair wild from sleeping on it wet and still looking rather tired.  His face was clearly indicative of having laid in bed for a good while before dragging himself up probably due to hunger if you had to hazard a guess.  His eyes met yours as you looked up from the article you were reading in the paper about some mysterious hero that had swooped in to save a neighboring city from some otherworldly attack.  The accompanying photo was grainy and horrible, but you easily recognized the distinctive outline of Red Queen on the shadowy figure’s back that was in the middle of leaping across a building.  You immediately dismissed it, pushing it away from you and turning towards him, and definitely not bringing up that troubled expression on his face. “I thought you left,” he looked legitimately shocked to see you sitting there at the counter, voice still soft, and glanced at the numbers glowing on the stove, noting it was well into the afternoon, “Aren’t you, uh,  _ really _ late?”

    You weren’t going to change the subject to being about you calling off work, shaking your head and scooting out the stool next to you with your foot before patting the seat.  For a moment it looked like Nero might decline, but eventually came over and sat heavily and slouched. Again, it could have very well been exhaustion, but the look in his eyes was telling you another story.  You hooked your foot under one of the bars running between the legs of the stool and pulled, dragging him closer by the seat till your legs were touching each other’s.

    “Your hair’s really cute like that,” you filled the silence and reached up to run your hand through the soft, untamed spikes.

    “S’that so?”  He huffed a small laugh, but the humor didn’t reach anywhere else on his expression or body, just letting you ruffle his hair with closed eyes.

    “You hungry?”

    Nero’s eyes slowly opened, looking at the growing concern on your face and considering the tone of your voice that implied you would, without question, get up and make him whatever he asked for.  By all accounts, he knew he should be hungry--not having eaten anything since leaving out on the job two days ago--but he just simply could not find an appetite. “No. I’m okay.” He hated the fact that he was just too drained to keep you from worrying about him.

    You had to stop yourself from frowning as well as resist the urge to demand to know what was wrong with him since he was clearly in some kind of emotional state right now.  That much was obvious just by looking at him. “You should at least drink some water,” you said while sliding off your seat and going about making him that said glass of water.  Nero’s eyes followed your movement, watching you for a long moment before his gaze dropped down to the paper you’d been reading when he came from upstairs. After realizing there was a picture of him printed on the article, he moved it closer to him, scanning the small words describing some unknown hero and his good deeds to save the city.

    When you turned back to bring him the glass of water, you noted the way he was staring at the newspaper, expression devastated and eyes narrowed.  Setting the glass down in front of him snapped him out of it; glancing up at you and then turning his head away quickly when he realized his eyes were watery.  “Nero…?” With his head bowed so you couldn’t see his face, he said nothing in response, just sitting there looking defeated. You hated to ask like this because whenever Nero was in a bad mood, he hated talking, “What’s wrong?”  But this...this was something far beyond a bad mood, you could see that.

    “It’s nothing,” the devil hunter deadpanned, standing from his seat and beginning to walk away; only pausing when you caught his wrist.  “Y/N…”

    “Not this time,” you squeezed a bit to make sure he wasn’t going to pull away.  “This isn’t normal, Nero.” His jaw clenched hard once you had gotten to your feet as well and reached out to turn his face to yours.  He fought you for a moment, but finally relented and kept his gaze averted so that he didn’t have to witness you reading him. You could tell he was trying to harden his expression to pretend like he was just annoyed at you for preventing him from letting him go.  But his eyes gave him away, as always. You tried to piece together as much as possible for yourself to help him talk to you; but the clues were scarce. All you had to go on was that he came home at dawn, had been feeling apparently in need of physical comfort, and woke up still solemn and moody; which had all gotten worse once he’d noticed that he’d made the front page of the morning paper.  You glanced at the thing, the article’s headline proclaiming him a  **HERO** , and the picture while trying to figure out what could have triggered him so badly from it.  Just taking a chance, you looked back at him as he still refused to meet your gaze, “What happened on this job?”  His jaw flexed. “They mention a rush-print, so it’s talking about the one you just came back from, right?” He still wasn’t responding or even moving, save for tears beginning to well up in his eyes again.  “They’re calling you a hero, so why--”

    “Don’t,” he finally broke his vow of silence.  “I’m not a ‘hero’...” Your brows furrowed at that, confused as to why the hell he’d think that, let alone say it.  You couldn’t even count on  _ both _ hands the number of times Nero had saved multiple people’s lives, including your own, simply because he had the power to do so and the drive to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

    That could only mean something terrible had to have happened.  “Nero, what happened?”

    Knowing you weren’t going to drop it, Nero slouched back down to his seat, leaning his back against the counter as if he’d just lost the energy to keep himself upright.  You sat back down as well, even if just to give him some space. “Heroes don’t fail…” he began, pausing for a long moment as if trying to find his words. “They said I saved the city, but,” his eyes were wide and distant; reliving whatever memory that was plaguing him so.  “That little girl…”

    Your chest tightened at not only the words, but the broken sound of his voice; immediately afraid you were correctly predicting what he was about to say.

    “She was  _ right _ there, and I couldn’t…”  His hands balled into fists in his lap.

    Having heard enough to know, you slipped down from your seat and moved your arms around his head to pull him to your chest.

    Or, at least you would have if Nero hadn’t suddenly stood up to escape the hug, “Don’t.”

    “Nero--”

    “Don’t!  I… I didn’t save  _ her _ ,” he turned away.

    “You can’t save  _ everyone _ , Nero…  You’re only human!"  You hadn’t meant to raise your voice at him, but it was just so difficult seeing him be so critical of himself.  He took it all so seriously, and so personally; each little thing he perceived as a failure on his part eating away at him.  And losing someone he was trying so desperately to save was always the worst offense on his deeply rooted, fierce need to protect.  When he shifted in place, you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist to keep him in place. He didn’t shake you off hugging him from behind so you pressed your forehead to his back, silently imploring him not to blame himself.  “I’m sure… I’m sure she knows you did  _ everything _ you could to save her.”

    Nero’s shoulders trembled.

    “Just like I know you did.”

    His Devil Bringer, that had been glowing angrily began fading back to it’s normal brightness but he was still so tense.

    “You’re not fair to yourself,” you ran the tip of your nose up his shoulder blade till your chin was resting against him, “You can’t put everything on your shoulders alone.”

    “Y/N…”  He sounded even more drained than he had when he’d first crawled into bed earlier this morning, “I’m tired…”

    And for him to say that, you knew he was probably more close to passing out where he stood from absolute exhaustion.  Words aren’t what he needed right now, so you released him from your embrace and grabbed by his hand--his right hand. “Let’s lay down then,” you waited for his nod to make sure he didn’t want to be alone first before pulling him along towards the bedroom; where you planned on bundling him up in your arms and staying there with him for as long as he needed, or wanted you to.


End file.
